


Rocks Fall

by mific



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fanfiction, Gen, Medical Procedures, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 02:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific
Summary: On a disastrous mission, Teyla and Ronon work with Carson to save their teammates - but if Evan Lorne can't pull off a risky maneuver, all may be lost.





	Rocks Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PuddleJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuddleJ/gifts).



> Written for the 2018 SGA Secret Santa, for Puddlej who likes Teyla and Carson interacting and Teyla being competent. Hope you enjoy it!

***

As soon as they stepped through the Ancestor's Ring, Teyla understood why John had ignored Rodney's protests and said they couldn't come by puddlejumper. The Ring was mounted on a rocky platform facing a cliff, so close that its plume had carved an indentation as deep as Ronon's height into the stone.

"Oh," Rodney said, peering into the shadowed, carved-out hollow, his eyes wide. "You win, Sheppard. That's hardly any room at all to maneuver. I'm not sure the distance from the gate to the cliff's even as _long_ as a jumper. In fact a three-point turn might not extricate you, unless you pulled one of those James Bond car stunts and flew sideways." He looked around curiously. "Where's the DHD?"

They found it by following the cliff-base around to where a path led to the front of the Ring, the DHD mounted there, off to one side. Beyond it, a dusty plain stretched away toward distant hills.

"Yeah, stunts like that aren't something I'm keen to test out, McKay," John said. He squinted across the plain. "Okay, guys. The ruins are in those hills and we've got a three-hour walk to get there. McKay, can you pinpoint where we're heading?"

"Oh yeah. Big energy spike, loud and clear." Rodney pointed to a jagged notch on the horizon.

John turned to the two Marines who had come through the Ring with AR-1. "Kumar, Antonelli, you're on guard here at the DHD to relay any messages back to base." The Marines nodded and surveyed the area around the Ring and the DHD, eyes narrowed. Antonelli took her cap off and pushed her ponytail up into it, then jammed it on more firmly.

Teyla did not envy them. It would be a tedious duty if the mission went smoothly, at least eight or nine hours of waiting with only occasional radio contact with AR-1. It was policy, though, to have a base at the DHD if the main exploratory team were traveling too far to return for check-ins. The Atlantean radios were sophisticated long-range technology, especially where line-of-sight was maintained as it would be until they reached the ruins, but Rodney and Radek had not yet discovered a way to use radios to dial the Ring remotely.

John touched Teyla's shoulder. He did these small touches unconsciously, she thought—a shoulder or an arm, fingers light in the small of Rodney's back for a brief moment—as though needing to maintain contact with them all. "Right. Teyla, you're on point. Ronon, cover our six. Let's rock and roll, and I know this place is supposed to be deserted, but everyone stay alert, okay? McKay, you hear me?"

"Huh?" Rodney looked up from his scanner. "Yes, yes, fairly quivering with alertness."

"Wraith don't need to come through the Ring," Ronon said, looking up at the wide bowl of the sky as he and Teyla took position.

Antonelli and Kumar glanced up as well, their faces impassive. Perhaps it was merely their training as Marines, but she'd noticed that people from Earth had far less fear of the sky than those native to Pegasus. Rodney was afraid of caves and enclosed spaces, which was rare here where caves were sanctuaries from the Wraith. She herself disliked the lack of shelter on this world, having been raised in the forests of Athos, but it could not be helped.

"Thanks for that happy reminder," Rodney said, his mouth downturned.

"Sooner we get to those hills, sooner we're back in range of cover," John said. "Let's move."

***

The journey was tedious and uneventful, as it transpired. Teyla scanned ahead and watched for loose rocks on the hard-baked soil that might turn an ankle, kicking them aside. John and Rodney got into a long, rambling argument about Earth sports, including a very strange game Rodney had played a recording of once, where grown men swept a sheet of ice clean with brooms. Earth cultural activities were frequently baffling.

They stopped at the base of the hills where there was welcome shade, and rested, drank water and, in Rodney and Ronon's case, ate a power bar. Rodney was a little red-faced and sweaty, but he'd had no difficulty keeping up. Teyla was glad their regular missions kept him fit; he was often distracted by work on Atlantis and found it hard to maintain regular training.  

"Where to now, McKay?" John asked, from where he was lying flat on his back in the dry grass that had replaced the dusty expanse of the plain. He'd checked in with Kumar when they stopped, and all was quiet at the Ring as well. Apparently they were playing poker and Kumar owed Antonelli twenty M&Ms.

"Um, about twenty meters that way," Rodney said, pointing. "There should be a path. The ruins are supposed to be half-way up the side of the massif."

"Okay," John said. "Better get moving again, so we can check the place out and make it home before nightfall."

Rodney looked up. "No problem with that—this planet's got a longer rotation than Lantea or Earth. It'll be light for hours yet."

"Good to know. Same positions, everyone," John said, getting to his feet and brushing a few strands of grass from his uniform.

They found the path near where Rodney had predicted. At first it was wide with a shallow slope and easy to traverse, crisscrossing the slope in a series of long sloping ramps and sharp, U-shaped bends. As they climbed, the path became narrower and less even, with rocky protrusions underfoot. The sharp turns were almost like rough staircases, hewn into the rock. Teyla watched her footing carefully and called back warnings to the others about any loose stones. Glancing back, she was glad to see Rodney concentrating just as carefully, the scanner returned to his tac-vest.

Later, much later, Teyla would try not to feel guilty that she had triggered the disaster. They could not have known that a trap lay ahead, possibly set by the Ancestors themselves who she had long since ceased to revere. The Ancestors had left behind too many dangers when protecting their secrets, careless of those stumbling on them later. Careless especially of those lacking the ATA bloodline, like herself or Ronon. Her presence on the path was all it took; if John had taken point, things might have gone differently.

She had passed the invisible trigger-point—a pressure sensor setting off a scan, Radek later hypothesized—and was starting to climb one of the stepped bends to the next ramp. Behind her, John told Rodney not to look down, for they were now at some elevation, and Rodney, brave though he was in some things, feared heights as well as enclosed places.

The first thing Teyla became aware of was a vibration underfoot, then a rising sound—a terrible, grinding roar. Ronon craned back, peering up, but the hillside curved above them, and they could not see the upper heights.

"What's that?" Rodney asked fearfully , finally noticing the vibration and noise. "Oh god, is it–"

"Shit, rockslide!" John shouted, looking around wildly. But there was only the path. The rest of the hillside was loose, slippery rock, which Rodney had called scree. Small clumps of mountain plants and grasses dotted the scree, but they offered neither foothold nor protection. "Stay there, Teyla," John yelled. "Don't try to–"

Each ramp was cut into the hillside with a rocky wall on the inward side, a little over Ronon's height at most. "Use the wall!" Teyla shouted to John. "Get close to–" The noise and shuddering were too loud, and her words were swept away.

She could see it now, a cloud of dust and loose, bouncing rocks, deceptively small-looking at a distance, but probably quite large boulders. It thundered down the hillside, heading for the center of the ramp.

John had grabbed Rodney and hauled him back to where the wall at the back of the path was highest, where Ronon had taken shelter, but Teyla could see they were directly in the path of the rockslide. It would miss her, out at the farthest end of the zig-zagging path as she was, but the others could not escape it. She felt a wave of despair, even as they crouched and John and Ronon threw themselves over Rodney, John's backpack uppermost.

A loose rock the size of a melon smashed past her only an arm's length away, and she crouched in turn, using her backpack as a shield. The noise was terrifying, a guttural, visceral roar, as the ground shook and small rocks struck her pack and bounced off the path nearby. A rain of gravel enveloped her, and a small, hava fruit-sized rock bruised her leg, but did no great damage. Her head was not struck.

The rocks fell away down the hillside and the noise receded. Dust filled the air, and Teyla was sick with fear for her friends. She shouldered her pack and scrambled back down the path, strewn with heaped rocks as far as she could see.

An Earth saying Rodney had joked about echoed in her head: "Rocks fall and everyone dies". It was supposedly an easy way for a tale-teller to end a story, but Teyla was determined that it would not be the end for John and Rodney and Ronon. Everyone had _not_ died, and somehow, she would find them and she would save them. Teyla toggled her radio.

***

Carson ran into the Gate Room and paused, panting and clutching a pillar. The emergency field kit he'd carried was heavy, and he set it down, taking Evan Lorne by the arm as he strode past. "Any news?"

Lorne shook his head. "None since Antonelli radioed. We're dialing P6J-323 and you're moving out in five. You ready, doc?"

"Aye," Carson said grimly. "The others will be here with more equipment in a jiffy. How far is it from the Gate to where the landslide happened?"

"More of a rockfall from Teyla's report. She said it's a three hour walk."

"Damnation! And we can't take a 'jumper?"

Lorne grimaced. "Sheppard wouldn't risk it, and he's our best pilot. Antonelli reported something Dr. McKay said after they went through. That it'd take a three point turn and a James Bond maneuver to get a jumper out the other side."

"A James Bond maneuver?" Carson frowned. "What'd he mean?"

"That stunt where the car's driven on two wheels so it's almost vertical, to fit through a narrow gap."

"Oh," Carson shook his head, despondent. "And even if you could manage that, it'd not be safe with casualties inside. Not if they're badly injured."

"You're forgetting the inertial dampeners, doc," Lorne said. "But yeah, Dr. Weir thinks it's too risky."

They looked at each other, and Carson was suddenly, powerfully certain they both shared the same thought: _Sheppard would have done it._ But Sheppard was under the rockfall and they had no idea yet if he still lived.

Lorne clapped Carson on the arm. "Here's the rest of your team." Marie and Rolf Larsen the new trauma surgeon jogged in, carrying two more equipment cases. When Carson turned back to Lorne, he was gone.

***

Teyla rocked back on her heels and wiped her forehead on her sleeve. She was covered with dust, as were the bodies of the three men lying between rocks at the base of the low cliff that had backed the path.

There was no sign of where the path had been now, but although some rocks had fallen close to the cliff-face, sheltering there had caused the larger boulders to bounce overhead, and all three of Teyla's teammates were alive.

None of them was uninjured. Ronon had regained consciousness, but his left leg was broken and unable to support his weight. He had nonetheless dragged himself over to check on John, who was unconscious, having been struck on the head. As far as Teyla could tell, John's body was bruised but he was not badly hurt, other than the head injury. She was unable to tell how bad that injury was, but he would certainly be concussed, even if his skull was not broken. It had not felt fractured to her probing fingers, and he had moaned briefly when she examined him, which was a good sign, from her field medicine lessons with Dr. Beckett.

Rodney was the one who most worried her. His breathing was fast, his pulse rapid and thready. Worse, he was struggling to draw breath and she did not like his color.

"He okay?" Ronon asked, then coughed and winced. She narrowed her eyes at him. His ribs needed checking but he had not allowed her to do so, saying he was fine, and that she should see to John and Rodney first. He did not, however, look seriously unwell and there was no blood seeping from under his clothing. The leg fracture needed setting but it was a closed break, with no wound. His evaluation was, she thought, accurate: the others took priority.

"He is not as well as I would like, Ronon, no," she said, beginning to strip Rodney's tac vest off while moving him as little as possible. It was a warm day, at least, so they did not have cold or rain to contend with. Dehydration would be more of a problem.

Ronon started trying to drag himself toward her. "No, stay there for now. Can you roll John onto his side very carefully, with something under his head? Keep the line of his spine straight at all times."

Ronon made no reply but immediately began pulling off the long leather coat he'd purchased at the midsummer market on Grennar. When she next glanced across he'd folded it and had eased John over into the recovery position. John moaned again, but did not wake.

"Should I give him water?" Ronon asked.

"No, not until he is properly awake and I have checked his eyes and swallowing. He might choke on it, otherwise."

She had the tac vest off now, so she unsheathed her hunting knife and cut Rodney's shirt away, trying to move him as little as possible. The right side of his chest was a mass of bruises and only the tac vest had prevented it from being lacerated—he must have been struck by a large and sharp-edged rock.

She had found the three of them scattered, but near to each other, not in the huddled, defensive pile they had assumed to protect Rodney. Rocks had probably knocked them apart, and once Rodney was exposed, one had fallen on him, causing this injury.

Teyla palpated along Rodney's ribs, stopping when she felt bone ends grate under the worst area of bruising. His breathing was increasingly labored, almost as though he were allergic to something. But there was only dust in the air, and he'd eaten nothing since that power bar at their rest stop.

She got the small flashlight from her tac vest pocket and opened his mouth, but the tissues were not swollen. His pupils were dilated but reacted normally to light.

He stirred then, and groaned. "Rodney. Do not try to move," she said.

Her radio crackled. "This is Carson Beckett. Teyla? Are you there?"

Teyla sighed in relief. "Dr. Beckett? We are all alive, but I am worried about John and Rodney in particular." Ronon gestured at her radio and she switched it to speaker so he could hear as well.

"We’re here at the DHD, lass. I gather it takes at least three hours to cross the plain. Will they be all right for that long?"

"I do not think so," Teyla said. "Not Rodney." Ronon stilled, staring at Rodney, his eyes fierce in his dust-streaked face.

Rodney hacked a cough, and made a sound of pain. His eyelids fluttered. "Hurts," he croaked, his voice weak and slurred.

"Is it your chest, Rodney?" she asked urgently.

He did not try to speak this time, too focused on drawing breath, just nodding. He looked frightened and confused.

She had been trying not to think of the length of time it would take help to reach them. Ronon and John could survive that long—well, about John she could not be sure. Head injuries were an unknown, without access to the infirmary scanner to check that no hematoma was developing that might require surgery.

"Can you give me a report, lass?"

Teyla did not want to do so in front of Rodney but there was no choice. "Ronon has a fractured leg, a closed fracture, not compound, above the ankle. The tibia, I think. He is conscious and assisting me as best he can. John is unconscious, but I could feel no skull fracture and he seems to have only bruising, otherwise. Rodney has very bad bruising to the right side of his chest, I think from a large rock. I can feel bone ends grating so he has at least one rib fracture. His pulse is fast and weak, and his breathing is labored."

"Can you describe the breathing problem a little more, Teyla?" Beckett asked. "And is there blood in his mouth—is he coughing blood?"

"No, there is no blood that I can see, and no open wound on his chest. His mouth and tongue are not swollen, so it is not an allergy. He seems to be straining to breathe, and he is pale, with poor color."

"Is he cyanosed? Are his lips blue?" Beckett asked sharply.

Rodney's eyes were shut again and he seemed to have lapsed back into unconsciousness. That was not a good sign. Teyla bent, to examine his face more closely. "Not quite, but they are not pink. They are a little purplish, yes, as was his mouth when I looked."

"Damn," Carson said. "I think he may have a tension pneumothorax. We've not covered that yet, I'm afraid, in your studies. He needs a chest tube."

"I do not know–" Teyla said doubtfully. A tube? They had no tubes with them.

"It's when a fractured rib tears a hole through the pleura, the… bag that lines the inside of the chest. Air's escaping from his lung into the gap between the lung and his rib-cage, and pressing on the lung and blood vessels in that side of his chest. Teyla, lass, I'm afraid he needs immediate treatment. This can't wait."

"I have never…" Teyla began, her stomach clenching. They had not covered this type of trauma—her lessons had only begun a few months ago, and she had not read anything about this problem yet.

"Teyla, lassie. You can do this," Carson said reassuringly. "You've got good instincts and I'll talk you through it. But you'll need some sort of tube, like a piece of plastic tubing. Is there nothing you can use? Or a syringe?" He sighed. "No, field kits don't stock any large enough. Let me see if anyone here has any ideas." The radio fell silent.

Ronon had been listening, and he now grabbed for John's pack, which had been thoroughly crushed, and heaved it out from under some rocks, dragging it across his lap. A small, sharp knife appeared in his hand from the hidden scabbard under his leather forearm brace and he ripped at one of the pack's seams. With a few slashing cuts, Ronon loosened something and grabbed it, pulling it free.

"Teyla?" Carson's voice again, on the radio. "There may be something in the seams of the packs you can use, Kumar says. Can you–"

Ronon was waving a narrow piece of plastic tubing that had been used to brace the long seam of the pack. He began to drag himself toward her but she held up her hand and clambered over, taking it from him with a nod and returning to Rodney immediately.

"We have it, Carson; Ronon found it. It is a clear plastic tube just over half as wide as my smallest finger. We have about an arm's length of it. What do I do?"

"Lay him down flat on his back, shirt off, and clean his chest on the injured side, in a line down from his armpit. Use alcohol wipes from a first aid kit. You still have one of those?"

"Yes," Teyla said, arranging Rodney, whose lips were now more obviously purplish, and cleaning his side.

"The tubing, cut the tip of it at a slant, so it's a little sharp. You have a knife?"

"I do," Teyla said, trimming the tubing with her large hunting knife.

"You'll need a small knife, if possible. Something more like a scalpel," Carson said.

Teyla scrambled over to Ronon again, although she hated to leave Rodney even for a second. Ronon gave her the small, slender knife from his bracer. This time, he dragged himself back after her to Rodney, and she did not try to prevent him. She checked Rodney's pulse again. It was faster and fainter, and he looked worse. She was sure he was in shock, and she did not think they had much time.

Following Carson's instructions, she cleaned the knife with another wipe and made a small incision in Rodney's side. He did not appear to notice it.

"You may feel a pop as you go through the chest wall," Carson said.

"I did not, but the knife is very sharp," she said. "It is Ronon's."

"Ah, well, you need the incision about half a finger's length deep," Carson continued. "Is Ronon helping you?"

"He is," Teyla said. "He is holding the tubing for me."

"Right. Well, if you can, leave the knife in there as a guide, and see if you can push the tubing in alongside it. Oh, and get Ronon to have a canteen of water ready. You have one? With water in it?"

Ronon nodded and leaned in, unbuckling the canteen from her belt. He shook it and it sloshed.

"It is about half-full," Teyla said. Did Carson want her to wash the wound?

She took the tubing from Ronon and pressed it into the cut she had made alongside Ronon's thin-bladed knife. It took some force, but she felt the pressure give way suddenly. "I think the tube is in place," she said, uncertainly. "There was not exactly a pop, but–"

"Keep the tubing in there but take out the knife," Carson said urgently. "Stick the other end in the canteen, so it's under water. You need to listen and tell me if bubbles come out. Oh, and Teyla?  Please check Rodney's vital signs again." The radio crackled, then his voice came again as she withdrew the knife, careful not to dislodge the tube. "The end of the tubing in the canteen should be below where the end in Rodney's chest is."

This time Teyla timed Rodney's heart-rate and breathing. "His pulse is 110 per minute and regular, but thready, and his respirations are about 55 per minute. He is breathing shallowly and I cannot see this side of his chest moving much.

"No, you'll not see much, if the injured side of his chest's as full of air as I suspect," Carson said grimly.

Ronon had been sizing up the land and Rodney's position. There was no way to elevate him, but the hill sloped away, and the canteen could be tilted almost flat on its side without water escaping. He stretched the tubing to its full length, the canteen flat, and squinted. "It's about a hand's width below him." Ronon lowered his ear to the canteen and listened. His hearing was the best of them all, sharpened by youth and his years as a Runner. "Yeah," he said a moment later. "I can hear it bubbling."

"It is working, we think, Carson. Air is bubbling into the canteen."

"Make sure that end of the tubing stays under the water," Carson ordered. "The water stops air being sucked back in, when he breathes. His breathing will pump the trapped air that's collapsed his lung out through the tube, and that lung will re-inflate."

Ronon nodded, and she knew she could trust him with the air-trap.

"Should I put a dressing on his chest where the tube is?" Teyla asked.

"Yes, tape it in," Carson said. "Carefully, now. Don't dislodge it, but try to seal the cut you made so no air can be drawn in there. Don't put any other dressing on; you'll need to keep an eye out that it's not bubbling around the incision."

Teyla applied the tape, looping it around the tube and sticking the ends flat to Rodney's skin, then repeating that on the other side of the tube. She checked him again; his breathing was a little easier and his color no worse. His pulse seemed slightly stronger.

"Still bubbling," Ronon said. beside him, John stirred and groaned.

"Don't move, Sheppard," Ronon said. He had no hands free, one supporting the canteen and one holding the tubing in place. Teyla crawled over and taped the tubing into the canteen. Carefully, Ronon put a hand on John's shoulder. "You’re okay, Sheppard. Just got hit on the head by a rock."

"Fuck," John slurred. "Whas… Teylan Ro'ny?"

"I am well, John," Teyla said. "Rodney will be well. We are helping him." Ronon met her gaze and nodded, and she nodded back, schooling her face to calmness.

She looked down at Rodney again, thinking of the three hour trip across the plains, then of their rescuers needing to climb the path, much of which would have been destroyed by the rockslide. If they could shift the rocks and force a way through, they must then somehow carry Rodney, fragile as he was, and John and Ronon who could not walk, back down the massif and across the plain again. The Daedalus was orbiting Earth, resupplying. Even were she to leave immediately, she could not be here for at least three weeks. Rodney was definitely breathing more easily, his color improving. She checked his pulse and it was stronger. But for how long, and how cold did this planet become after night fell?

"Teyla?" It was Carson again, and she gave him Rodney's latest recordings. Carson sounded pleased. "Well done, lass. He's stabilizing, but we need to get all of you back to the infirmary as soon as possible. Is John still unconscious?"

"He has woken, but is groggy," she said. "His pupils are equally sized and reacting to light."

"Good, good," Carson said, but he sounded distracted. "Teyla, lass. I'll not lie to you. Things are still hanging in the balance with Rodney. I'll have Dr. Larsen keep talking to you. I need to nip back to Atlantis and report."

Teyla's heart fell, which was unreasonable. But she did not know the new surgeon, Dr. Larsen, and Carson was a friend. "I understand," she said, not allowing her feelings to show.

"Teyla, I don't want to give you false hope, but Major Lorne has a plan, and if it works we'll be with you in under an hour.

The radio clicked off, and Teyla was left staring at it. So soon? But how?

***

The Gate Room was quiet when Carson stepped through the wormhole, but he heard raised voices from Elizabeth's office. He headed up the stairs.

"I still think it's too risky, Major," Elizabeth said. There's no way you can go through without some momentum."

Lorne's voice was tense. "Dr. Zelenka did the measurements himself, Dr. Weir. It's a very tight fit, but if the 'jumper goes through as slowly as possible and dead center in the 'gate, we can use the hole the plume's carved in the cliff to maneuver."

"A three-point turn, as Rodney said?"

Carson pushed open the door. Lorne glanced at him, then back at Elizabeth.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And then this Bond movie flying, with the 'jumper tipped on its side?"

"Yes, ma'am. I've spent the past half hour practicing it, out on the North pier where there's a narrow gap between buildings about the right width. I can do it. Really, it's the 'jumper that does it. I just tell it what we need and it does the calculations."

"And if you get the 'jumper jammed in the 'gate, as happened when John had that Iratus bug attached to his neck?"

Lorne's jaw muscles tightened. "Then we'd be FUBAR. But it won't happen."

Elizabeth shook her head. "The risks are too high. It's too dangerous a stunt."

Carson stepped forward. "Rodney will die if we don't try it. Sheppard might as well, although I'm less worried about him." He raised his hands helplessly. "Look, Rodney's in shock, with a punctured lung. I've talked Teyla through an emergency procedure but he's not stable. He needs a proper chest tube, oxygen and fluids, maybe surgery. John needs a scan to make sure he's not developing a brain bleed, and Ronon has a leg fracture that needs setting as soon as possible. We only have another few hours of daylight, and Radek says the temperature overnight there will drop to near freezing." He dropped his hands and sighed. "I don't know that any of them would survive, Elizabeth, because you know Teyla and Ronon would use all the emergency blankets on Rodney and John." He eyed her bleakly. "Even if we started across the plain now, we'd reach the rockfall as night was falling and be unable to clear a path through to them before morning. There'd be very little we could do for them, on foot, and certainly not in time to save Rodney."

"Carson," Elizabeth said, a note of desperation in her voice. "You can't be advocating for this plan…" she gestured at Lorne. "It's too risky."

"There's no choice, Elizabeth." Carson said. "John would do it, if he were here and not injured—you know he would. Major Lorne's the best pilot we have, after Colonel Sheppard. If he says he can pull it off, I believe him."

"Dear god," Elizabeth said. She stared down at the floor for a moment, then straightened and looked at Lorne. "You have a go, Major. Don't get stuck in the goddamn 'gate."

Lorne saluted and spun on his heel, striding off.

"I'll be off as well," Carson said.

"Carson," Elizabeth said. He paused at the door. "You and any other personnel are to go through first, on foot. Only Major Lorne is to be in the puddlejumper."

Carson nodded. "I'll tell him."

***

Ronon's head lifted and he stared across the plain. "It's them," he said.

He'd been holding the canteen exactly in place for almost an hour, but despite the pain he must be in from his leg, he showed no signs of tiring. Teyla had persuaded him to at least take some paracetamol, but he'd refused anything stronger. John remained groggy, and had vomited, and drifted in and out of a restless sleep. Rodney's color was pale, but the bluish tinge was gone and his breathing was still shallow and rapid, but easier. His pulse was rapid and strong.

"But how?" Teyla peered into the late afternoon dustiness of the plain, unable to see or hear what Ronon had noticed.

Ronon shrugged. "Dunno, but it's a 'jumper. Maybe they did that thing McKay said."

A moment later, Teyla could see the tiny dark speck, which rapidly increased in size. She felt deeply grateful, but unable to say "thank the Ancestors," as her people did. She suspected the Ancestors might in fact have caused their plight—they often guarded their laboratories with hidden traps.

The 'jumper landed and Carson hurried out with his team. They began inserting intravenous lines and taking Rodney's blood pressure. Carson listened to his chest. "Good, good, air entry on both sides." He checked the makeshift tube and smiled at her. "You did a very good job, lass."

Major Lorne and several Marines exited the 'jumper, and the major came over.

"Teyla, I hear you're the hero of the hour," he said.

"Ronon as well, and he has a broken leg," Teyla said, "whereas I am uninjured."

"I'll be the judge of that, when we get you all back to base," Carson said, but he was smiling, putting an oxygen mask on Rodney's face.

"And you performed quite a feat of flying I believe, Major Lorne," Teyla said. "So you must share the credit as well."

"Yeah, the Colonel's gonna be pissed he didn't get to do it first," Lorne said, grinning.

"Do wha' first?" asked John, as the Marines loaded him carefully onto a stretcher.

"I'll tell you later, sir," Lorne said. He stood, and nodded at the Marines to lift John and Rodney's stretchers. Ronon had refused one and was hopping, using Kumar as a support.

"Yes," Teyla said, rising and brushing back her sweaty, dusty hair. "Let us go home."

 

***

 

the end

 


End file.
